Empress Josephine eBook

“And is such the truth?” asked Bonaparte,
eagerly. “This is no invention to raise
my hopes, only to be cast down again?”

Josephine smiled. “I have daily taken notes
of what Charles Botot brought me,” said she,
gently; “I always hoped to find a safe opportunity
to send this diary to you in Egypt, that you might
be informed of what the Directory thought, and what
was the public opinion, so that you might take your
measures accordingly. But, for the last eight
months, I knew not where you were, and so I have kept
my diary: here it is.”

She gave the diary to Bonaparte, who, with impatient
looks, ran over the pages, and was fully convinced
of her devotedness and care. Josephine had well
served his interests, and closely watched over his
affairs. Then, ashamed and repentant, he looked
at her, who, in return, smiled at him with gracious
complacency.

“Josephine,” asked he, quietly, “can
you forgive me? I have been foolish, but I swear
to you that never again will I mistrust you, I will
believe no one but you. Can you forgive me?”

She embraced him in her arms, and tenderly said:
“Love me, Bonaparte; I well deserve it!”

Peace, therefore, was re-established, and Josephine’s
enemies had the bitter disappointment to see that
their efforts had all been in vain; that again the
most perfect unanimity and affection existed between
them; that the cloud which their enmity had conjured
up, had brought forth but a few tear-drops, a few
thunderings; and that the love which Bonaparte carried
in his heart for Josephine was not scattered into
atoms.

The cloud had passed away; the sun of happiness had
reappeared; but it had yet some spots which were never
to fade away. The word “separation”
which Bonaparte, so often in Egypt, and now in Paris,
had launched against Josephine, was to be henceforth
the sword of Damocles, ever suspended over her head:
like a dark, shadowy spectre it was to follow her
everywhere; even amid scenes of happiness, joy, and
glory, it was to be there to terrify her by its sinister
presence, and by its gloomy warnings of the past!

CHAPTER XXXII.

TheeighteenthBrumaire.

Bonaparte’s journey from Frejus to Paris, on
his return from Egypt, had been a continued triumph.
All France had applauded him. Everywhere he had
been welcomed as a deliverer and savior; everywhere
he had been hailed as the hope of the future, as the
man from whom was to be expected assistance in distress,
the restoration of peace, help, and salvation.